A Fate Worse Than Darkspawn?
by Shootingstar7123
Summary: The hero of Ferelden was not fazed any manner of strange and dangerous creatures, but this—frills and lace and powder and poof—was a fate worse than death by darkspawn horde. Cousland/Alistair


A Fate Worse than Darkspawn?

…

A/N: I'm feeling a little in over my head in the Dragon Age fandom, and I don't feel like I know all there is to know, but I took another shot at it, and here it is. I wrote this just for fun. I hope someone other than me will enjoy it!

…

Unnecessary disclaimer: None of the characters, storylines, or dialogue appearing in the video game, Dragon Age: Origins, belong to me.

Abstract: The hero of Ferelden was not fazed any manner of strange and dangerous creatures, but this—frills and lace and powder and poof—was a fate worse than death by darkspawn horde.

…

"Hold still!" Leliana urged, tugging on my hair. I squirmed.

"Are you not finished yet?" I asked, annoyed.

Leliana laughed, her hands not stopping their quick, nimble movements. "You wish me to leave you with half-finished hair for your wedding?"

"If it means an end to this cruel and unusual torture, yes," I countered grouchily.

Leliana laughed again. She was always laughing. "Come, you are the most fearsome warrior in Ferelden and you cannot handle a little hair styling?"

I huffed. Even during my life as a noble, I wore my hair simply, and I had become used to doing little or nothing with it during the previous months—short, simple hair was ideal for battle.

"Fine, do your worst," I said bravely, resigning myself to wait out her torture patiently.

When I sat still, she finished quickly. "Here, see for yourself," she said, placing a looking glass in my hand.

"Now, don't you look lovely?" she asked rhetorically. I examined myself.

My hair was coiffed, twisted, and curled into some sort of fashionable abomination with flowers adorning it. I trailed a finger across my lips, which were painted with some unnaturally bright color. My reflection was so strange, so foreign to me. I didn't look like myself at all.

"Can I have a few moments alone?" I asked.

"Of course, my dear," Leliana responded, soon vacating the room along with the maids and wardrobe women that bustled about.

I stared again at my reflection. What was I doing, I wondered?

I much preferred the simplicity of battle to the coquetries and intrigues of salons and ballrooms. I always had.

How had I so stupidly agreed to do this thing?

I considered running. I could escape easily. The drop from my window wasn't far, and I could prevent being seen if I wished.

But thoughts of my bridegroom stopped me; I could not so easily abandon him.

Just a walk, that's all, I decided. To clear my head. Getting away from all this frilly nonsense would help me, I thought.

I wrapped a cloak around myself, bringing the hood carefully up and over Leliana's creation.

I hopped down from the window and crept around the corner. The streets were bustling; no one paid mind to a single stranger. Preparations were being made. I stopped a while near the kitchens, overflowing with comings and goings. Great masterpieces of confection were being crafted, delicious treats for the celebration later that evening. Restless, I moved on.

I wandered further from my room until I found myself under Alistair's tower. He would be getting ready.

By a chance of luck I saw him through the window. I envied him; he wore ceremonial armor while I would later be forced into a delicate gown, the likes of which I had never worn, not even during any of my parents' balls or salons. His golden chest piece sparkled in the light. I caught sight of his face. Despite my opinion on the comfort of his attire, he wore an apprehensive look. I realized suddenly that he must feel the same way as I. So strange, so out of place. So worried. It was oddly comforting, in a way. I was not alone.

I knew I must be getting back—Leliana and the ladies would be soon wondering where I was.

I was not in the room long before Leliana entered again. "Andraste's grace, I thought you had run off for good," she said softly to me. I looked up at her in surprise. "Come, my friend," she said with a soft smile. "After all our time together do you think I do not know you at all? I saw that look in your eye."

"And yet you let me go," I said wonderingly.

"I left it to the Maker," she said simply. Her lips spread into a wide smile. "Besides, I knew you could never leave Alistair at the altar!"

We both laughed then, as she smoothed down my hair, which had gotten slightly roughed by the cloak's hood. "I did have quite a time keeping the ladies out of here!" she confided. "They are in quite a hurry to get you in your gown. Let's not keep them waiting, shall we?"

She turned away for a moment, and soon returned with a frothy white monstrosity, which she claimed was my gown.

The women helped me out of my clothes and into the dress, sealing me into it with the tiniest fairylike buttons.

I longed for the weight, the supple strength of armor. This was gossamer; any movement seemed like it could destroy it.

I stayed still as Leliana checked me over, fluffing, smoothing and primping. Transforming me into the queen I had to be.

She handed me a bouquet of blossoms. I breathed in their scent. They were Leliana's mother's flowers; they brought back memories of the road, of the journey that seemed so long ago now. Where had she found them, I wondered?

Just as I had gotten lost in a wisp of a memory, Leliana's voice spirited it away. "It is time," she said. "We must go to the chantry."

Our walk from the tower to the chantry seemed more of a funeral march to me. People in the streets parted ways and bowed their heads courteously as we passed.

One of the ladies held the train of my dress so that it would not be soiled in the streets. Leliana had despaired of my shoes getting dirty, the delicate, embroidered ones she had sent for from Orlais, but I insisted on walking; a carriage to take me the short distance from my tower to the chantry would have been silly.

We arrived at the doors, and my heart beat faster. I looked behind me, but in these shoes, no escape would be possible. I could hardly walk, much less run.

Leliana put a warm hand on my shoulder. "Do not fear. The Maker is with you."

The Maker… did he hear my cries, my prayers? My fears? Could he make me a good queen, Alistair a good king? Could he ensure our peace, or would he turn away from me, as it seemed he always had in my times of need?

"Trust me," she said with a smile and a wink. "I dreamed it was so."

I couldn't help but smile; Leliana disarmed me at all the most important moments. "You are a treasured friend," I said seriously, reaching for her hand to squeeze.

"And I will always be your friend," she promised, squeezing back.

We looked up to a scraping sound. "Look, the doors open for you, my lady," said a guard.

Leliana led me to the door. "Go, my friend," she said. She nodded ahead. "Your groom awaits."

I looked up to see him. Shock registered on his face as he saw me. He looked uncomfortable, but infinitely glad to see me.

I somehow reached Alistair and the altar. The service was performed by the revered mother, and to me it was a blur, ending with a heavy golden band on my finger and his.

An elaborate banquet was next. There is little greater opportunity for celebration than a royal marriage, and a celebration it was. Alistair and I had little time to breathe, let alone speak to one another. In a fortunate moment, we found ourselves alone on the corner of the terrace.

I squeezed his hands. "How are you feeling, my love?"

He sighed, too tired for humorous quips. "Overwhelmed."

I nodded. "I know exactly how you feel."

We were silent for a few moments before he spoke. "This… isn't how I thought this day would be. I thought it would be something special. For us. But all of this pomp and circumstance is for them," he said, waving his hand in the direction of the hall behind us. "It isn't for us at all."

"This isn't us at all," I agreed unhappily. I looked out over the terrace. Finally, the city seemed quiet except for the merriment occurring inside the hall. The streets, so busy earlier, were now empty. The wheels started turning in my head. "Hey," I began. He looked down at me with those warm hazel eyes, the eyes that made me melt. "Let's get out of here," I said.

He looked at me incredulously. "Are you mad?" he asked. "We can't leave!"

"Says who?" I challenged. "Aren't we in charge here?"

I could see him weighing the options in his mind. "Where, pray tell, would we be going?"

"Well…" I began. "The stables are just around the corner there," I said, pointing, "And I know the guards at the East gate. They're friends; they won't tell where we've gone."

When I looked back at Alistair, his face had spread into a wide smile. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" he asked, grinning.

I grinned back. "Let's go, before someone comes looking!"

We rode through the night wind to a meadow by a stream, with only one additional stop—to get my hound, who had been rudely corralled for such an auspicious day. He stood guard at a distance, keeping watch for us. As I climbed from the horse, Alistair whistled. "You've made rags of that pretty gown," he said.

I looked down; indeed I had. "Leliana is going to be furious with me," I said, but I couldn't help but grin.

I peeled myself out of the gossamer dress, destroying it even more fully in the process. My smallclothes were of simple linen; Alistair had seen me in less.

"By the maker, you are beautiful," he said softly, watching me in the moonlight.

"You seem a bit overdressed to me," I replied teasingly, thumping his armor with a finger. He began to take it off slowly, soon revealing his body, that which I craved, shining golden under the moon.

Our matching bands reflected the moonlight as we made love by the stream.

"Is this more what you thought this night would be?" I asked him, cradled together after our lovemaking.

I could feel his smile more than see it. "Something like this, yes."

We were silent a while, enjoying our solitude and each other.

The next thing I remember, it was dawn, with just a hint of pink showing on the horizon. I surveyed the space around us. Fine clothes strewn on the grass, a great war horse tied to a tree, the royal hound splashing in the stream, and the king and queen of Ferelden naked on the riverbank.

I caught Alistair's eye as he awakened and did the same, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"We are in _so_ much trouble!"

…


End file.
